August book report
One REALLY long book, one fascinating non-fiction, and one unpopular response
Julia Heaberlin (2020). We Are All the Same in the Dark. [Audible]. Narrated by Jenna Lamia, Catherine Tabor, MacLeod Andrews, and Kirby Heyborne. Random House Audio
A cop with one leg, a girl with one eye, missing bodies, and a small town make for a solid mystery of a book. There are enough suspects to keep it interesting without being confusing, especially in an audiobook. No spoilers, but I liked the story.
Dandelions as metaphors dominate the pages of this thriller. They grow on graves, both real ones and symbolic ones. They serve as wishes and warnings. They represent duplication and resurrection. Heaberlin did not abuse the metaphor but kept it in balance with the story as it unfolded.
I always enjoy listening to a mystery where I figure out the killer and then forget I knew until the end. That usually means there are interesting plot twists, red herrings, and characters I like. The title of the book comes from the memory of a character whose presence comes in bits and pieces, as memories are wont to do. I actually have a copy of the Betty Crocker cookbook from the narrative, although mine is still packed with recipes.Â
While I enjoyed the narration, I wished I had a hard copy just for some of the one-liners I heard because now I don't remember what they were. I may see if the library has one just so I can copy them down.Â
Jean M. Twenge (2023). Generations: The Real Differences Between Gen Z, Millennials, Gen X, Boomers, and Silents -- and What They Mean for America's Future. [Kindle].
A fascinating examination of the generations and how generational cultures form and how those cultures affect the future. Is it nature or nurture? Yes. World events affect parenting, parenting affects local culture which shapes national culture which affects world events.
Well-researched and documented, Twenge lays out the primary characteristics of each generation from Silents (born 1925-1945) to the "Polars" (born 2013-2029 ish). In between are Boomers (1946-1964), Gen X (1965-1979), Millennials (1980-1994), and Gen Z (1995-2012). Most of her observations ring true; I felt like she had been at my house when I was growing up as a Gen X kid. I did think her rationale for calling what most researchers refer to as General Alpha "Polars'' was silly. (No spoilers, but I think Alpha makes more sense unless there is some cataclysmic event that marks the entire generation.) Her speculation about the future is also something I question when I look at the research, but there is no question, she is dedicated and thorough. Her assessment of why Gen Z is so different from any previous generation is well-reasoned and logical. I happen to agree with her discussion in that section.
I think if I were still teaching teachers I would add this book to my coursework, especially in a course about classroom management. Why classroom management? Because classroom management is about working with parents, colleagues, and administrators as much as it is about students. It would be a helpful tool for understanding where people are coming from as well as offering a strategy for the best possible communication. It's also a book I'd recommend to anyone in the service economy. I think the more we understand about generational history the more we might be able to find common ground between us.
Melissa Bond (2022). Blood Orange Night; My Journey to the Edge of Madness. [Audible]. Narrated by the author.
Melissa Bond was a happily married journalist for a regional magazine with a special-needs newborn when she began experiencing debilitating insomnia. In the course of the next year, she lost her job (the magazine folded), gave birth to a healthy baby girl, and slept less and less. By the time she finally found a doctor who believed her insomnia was real, she was sleeping an hour a night and her body was breaking down. The doctor brightly offered hope in the form of increasing doses of benzodiazepine, a miracle drug that provided a full night's sleep - until it didn't. She took the drug for a year before learning that the standard of care was for no more than four weeks to address a temporary complaint because the drug is highly addictive, causing physical dependency without the perk of a high. To make matters worse, withdrawal from benzodiazepine can be fatal unless tapered slowly, one microgram at a time. Each reduction is brutal and it can take months or years to be fully non-dependent. Even then, the damage done to the brain can be permanent.
Bond's journey is well-documented and her feelings are explicitly clear. Her descent into dependence is terrifying, although, I'm not sure I would call it the "edge of madness." The frustration of finding treatment when so many doctors believed in the efficacy of the drug while minimizing the contraindications feels palpable as each section continues. There's a fine balance between showing the struggle and dragging the reader along. This memoir straddles that line.Â
Where the narrative comes short is in the breakdown of her marriage. I wish her husband could write a companion book because Bond can't fully understand his emotions and he comes out sounding like a terrible person rather than another victim of benzodiazepine dependence and withdrawal. Also in her line of fire is ABC, family members who didn't offer enough support, and the American consumer who seems to prefer stories about heroin and fentanyl to the diazepines. A better editor and a tighter focus on the drug might have made a difference in empathy for the author.
Richard Powers (2018). The Overstory. [Audible]. Narrated by Suzanne Toren.
This Pulitzer Prize for Fiction (2019) book is long in length and broad in scope. The primary protagonist is not human, but trees. The book is divided into four parts: Root, Trunk, Crown, and Seed.
The book's first section is a collection of short stories about nine people and the trees that represent them. Toren is an excellent narrator and handled the various accents with aplomb if not perfection. I liked listening to her tell the stories. The characters were interesting people with mostly engaging backstories. (One story was just stupid, but the rest had plausible histories.) The "Root" section can stand alone and let the readers decide how they are connected (hint: it's the trees).
"Trunk" is where the narrative starts to disintegrate. Each of the characters from "Root" begins a westward journey from their homes around the U.S., all focused on a grove of Old Growth Redwoods targeted for cutting by a corporate logging company. From this point on, the book becomes more activist than story. It's still beautifully written, but I soured on the angles pretty quickly. The various characters come together to make a statement and save the trees and the earth from certain destruction. One character thinks the tree spirits are talking to her. Another is convinced that the earth will be destroyed by fire with no hope for renewal. A third retreats into a computer game he created. The grand moment, the civil disobedience inspired by Thoreau, doesn't go according to plan.Â
Section three, called "Crown" continues down the path of stupidity. As quickly as they gathered, the characters dispersed and appeared to live miserably ever after. I had the audiobook set at 1.75 speed and it still felt endless. I kept checking the time left. STILL THREE HOURS???? At this point, the skill of the writer's wordsmithing and the narrator's pleasant tone made no difference. But I committed to the bitter end.Â
"Seed."Â
This book is three sections too long.
Rachel Joyce (2020). Miss Benson's Beetle: A Novel. Dial Press Trade Paperback
My book club usually chooses books that are entertaining or thought-provoking. This one, however, is neither. It is a book that doesn't know what it wants to be about. Is it a stalker book? A murder mystery? An adventure? A book of unlikely friendships? Frankly, it is a little of each and a lot of nonsense.Â
It had promise but needed a good editor. One character (the stalker) never makes sense. If he had been cut completely from the narrative, no one would notice. It's the same with the murder-that-wasn't-a-murder mystery and the nosy ladies of the 1950s British Consulate in New Caledonia. The two lead characters, Miss Benson and Enid Pretty are charming characters who deserved better.
In the back of the novel, after the acknowledgments, the fictional "interview" and just before the book club questions, the author wrote, "I knew I needed to write a book about female friendship; the love between women that extends beyond boundaries" (353). She still needs to write that book.